Sermon for Matthew 14:13-21 Filled by God's Love

Kathleen Jones

I was there.

I am not among those counted by the disciples, but I was there and I saw him.  I saw him look out across the deserted place that we had followed him to.  Saw his eye light upon those who needed him the most – though we all needed him.  He paid particular attention to those who were weak and helpless and faithful – though we were all faithful.  Well... most of us were.  He helped and healed them all though – all those who were helpless.  But oh, he looked tired.  Drained really.  Burnt-out. 

With the death of John the Baptizer, he had come out to this deserted patch of land.  Perhaps to grieve and be alone, just for a while.  Ah, but the community followed, as we always did.  We were - some of us anyways - always near him, even though we were not part of the inner circle.  I like to think that we were a source of strength, of support.  A reassurance that even though the established order wasn't too fond of him, we were there.  A reassurance that there would always be a community following his way - or at least trying to.  I don’t know if we helped a lot though. At that moment, watching our exhausted Teacher watch us, I doubted it. Oh, he looked tired. 

Walking among us with some of his disciples, you could see the pain of his friend's death on his face and in the way he held his shoulders.  But then, when he stopped and looked upon the sick or grieving, when he prayed and raised his hands up towards the sky... he was radiant.  Overflowing with compassion and love from his own heart, and the heart of God. 

I saw it. 

I saw it when he healed my cousin's youngest son - Eliezer no longer walks with a limp.  He didn't have to do it.  He didn’t have to help our little boy or any of us there. He didn’t have to do this. Any of it. 

He could have seen us: the broken, blind, and hungry, and said, 'I owe you nothing! You breathe My air, walk on My earth, drink of My rivers. I have given you far more than you deserve! You are sinful, unworthy, and rebels against Me and my God. You have no intention to follow Me on your own. You only want to feel more comfortable now so that you can live life according to your own desires!'  He would not have been wrong either; ultimately, we would fail him, and he knew that. 

But instead, he was very much with all of us in our pain, our illness, our grief, and our hunger.  He showed us what we could be through God's love - conduits of grace.  True vessels for compassion.  It was his compassion that urged him to act.  As it should be our own compassion that urges us to act and guides our own actions now that he is gone. 

And in his compassion he became Love incarnate - a divine display - for all of us there that day.  All of us - not just the sick or grieving whom he healed, bur for all of us - for at the end of the day, his disciples wanted to send us away back to the villages to get food, but he said no, and asked them to bring him the food that they had brought for themselves – a meagre amount from the looks on their faces – so that they could share it among the assembled crowd. The disciples... well... they looked more than a little sceptical. You would think that they would have grown accustomed to witnessing miracles having spent so much time with the Teacher. Nonetheless, after he had blessed the bread and fish and asked the disciples to distribute them among those of us gathered, they still looked somewhat wary. I don't recall exactly at what point their faces changed from scepticism to shock and then to joy... but I do know that by the time they got to my little group, the baskets of food still appeared to be more than full enough to feed those remaining. Ha! There were leftovers! Leftovers! Such abundance as is rarely seen.

Ah, but we had faith – among us, we had faith that there would be enough, that with God's help, through the use of such ordinary things as bread and fish the Teacher could perform extraordinary feats. Such abundance was seen that day! A wealth of compassion, an outpouring of love. It was glorious to witness – God provided for us, far beyond what we could have imagined. We trusted and shared in God's abundance and were provided for in both body and spirit. Beautiful.

But what of that day – did any of us learn anything? What did we experience there other than a miracle? We saw compassion and experienced grace. We met love and witnessed a miracle of faith. Some might say that we tasted the kingdom of heaven in the compassionate actions undertaken by the Teacher through the healing and feeding our bodies, and that through those actions he allowed us – the community – to be filled by God's love.

The Teacher set an example for us – as he always did – he showed us that even in his own exhaustion and grief over losing John, when he responded to those in need with compassion and trust in God, God provided for him and for those he wished to aid. Really, this is true for all of us. Despite where we may be in our own lives, when we reach out to others from a place of love, God is there and provides for all of us. If we are to be true to our faith, then we as followers of the Teacher’s way, we are called to be compassionate to others. We are called to respond to the needs of those around us, and do as he did – allow others to feel the divine presence and be filled with God’s love. And we were filled. We did not simply eat a meal together, although that in itself is often a meaningful thing. It was more than that. Those who were sick or injured were not simply healed of body, thought that in itself would have been a miracle. It was more than that. This was something special. This was what it felt like to be in the presence of unconditional love, unending compassion, and everlasting grace. To experience that and be filled with all of these things - that was the miracle.

The Teacher’s actions showed us how, with God's grace, he turned the loaves bread and a few fish into a meal for seven, maybe ten-thousand people (including us women and the children) but it does not tell us what moved him to do this. His actions though, showed that both God and Christ are compassionate toward us in all our needs. His compassion did more than just feed the multitudes. His compassion filled us and pushed us to see that such compassion and love are abundant in our own lives, and challenged us to acknowledge these abundant gifts from God in our lives in whatever form they may take - perhaps in something as simple as realizing the amazing love available to us through our immediate and extended family and friends – those people who have taken us into their hearts and homes and adopted us: that is abundant love.  That is compassion in our time of need. That is a gift from God. In looking around my own little circle - my sister and her husband and my many nieces and nephews and their aunts and uncles and cousins - I felt different.  We had all been affected by what we experienced there in that so-called deserted place.  Here there was community and abundance.  And in seeing the abundance there, I realized that these gifts of God - this compassion and great love - were things to be shared with others, as the Teacher had shared with us.  Christ shared of himself to nourish our spirits and shared of his food to nourish our bodies, and I think that that works the same with us.  When we give of ourselves, we nourish our spirits, and the spirits of those we feel compassion for.  We are given so much, and it is easy to miss the abundance in our lives - I pray that I manage to hold onto that day for many more years and remember to see God's love in my life and share that love with others.  May it be so.  Amen.